


Contractual Obligations

by misura



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: (at least on Bilbo's part), Accidental Marriage, Everybody Lives, M/M, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:18:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2085285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<i>Married?</i>" Bilbo repeated incredulously.</p><p>" 'twas in the contract, lad," Balin said. "You did sign it, after all."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contractual Obligations

" _Married?_ " Bilbo repeated incredulously.

" 'twas in the contract, lad," Balin said. "You did sign it, after all."

"Indeed he did." Thorin looked around the hole. Bilbo caught himself wanting to tell him that, really, he'd been just about to do a bit of dusting, a spot of cleaning - some straightening out of the bits and bobs on the shelves. A refill of the pantry, which still wasn't quite as it should be.

"You did read it before signing, didn't you?"

"I ... " Bilbo recalled it had been a very _long_ contract. There had been a number of words in them that had been either unpleasant or strange. "I'm sure I did. Yes. Very sure."

"Good," Balin said. "Well, there you are, then. Everything's in order."

"I ... " Bilbo said, again. Thorin idly picked up a scroll. "Excuse me, but I really do think that there's been some sort of ... miscommunication. Can I see it?"

"See what?" Thorin asked absently, unrolling the scroll.

Bilbo hoped he'd picked one of the more harmless titles. A cook book, maybe. Grandmama Lucinna had picked up some very peculiar scrolls in her late age. The kind of stuff not intended for the eyes of young Hobbits - or misguided visitors. "The contract that I signed."

Balin chuckled.

"What need?" Thorin scoffed and tossed the scroll back on the stack.

"Well, I - " Bilbo said. "Wait. You're not - oh. I see."

"And what do you see, Master Baggins?"

"Very funny," Bilbo said. "You really had me going there. Ha, ha."

"Are you calling me a liar?" Thorin's expression suggested the correct, safe answer to this question was 'no'.

"Oh, come on." Bilbo hadn't been doing the correct, safe thing for quite a while now. He'd grown out of the habit, he supposed. He'd regain the knack in time, he was sure. "I mean, you can't possibly be serious about this. _Married_?"

"Are you saying I'm not good enough for you?"

Bilbo opened his mouth. Closed it again. Stammered, "Well, I ... no. But - "

"No buts," Thorin said. "Is there anything to drink?"

"Don't you worry about a thing, now, Bilbo," Balin said. "We've taken care of everything. You just enjoy your married life now, there's a good lad."

 

"What _will_ the neighbors think?" Bilbo asked his shirt, as he was getting ready for bed later that day. Balin had left after a pint of ale and many more reassurances that 'everything had been arranged', whatever that might mean.

Thorin had stayed, mostly to look around Bilbo's home and find fault. True, he hadn't actually _said_ anything to that effect, but Bilbo knew a disapproving look when he saw one.

There'd been quite a few of them when he'd gotten back home, some few weeks ago.

"Do I _care_ what the neighbors will think?" he asked the ceiling. It was a nice ceiling. "Well, yes, but should I? Should I, really? After all, what have the neighbors ever done that's worth mentioning? Have they ever faced down a dragon? Orcs? Traveled outside the Shire in the company of a real Wizard? Ha. Have they ever."

He knew they talked about him behind his back. _That Bilbo Baggins,_ he could picture them saying with perfect clarity, _always running wild, even as a lad. Hardly behaving the way a proper Hobbit should be behaving. Traipsing around, looking for trouble._

"Perhaps they will say you are a lucky man," Thorin said, from the doorway.

Bilbo considered this briefly. The realization that Thorin was, in fact, standing in the doorway of his bedroom did not help. Fully dressed, true, and not looking as if he was about to come inside and change that, but still.

"No," he said at last. "I really do not think they will."

Thorin shrugged. "Then they are fools, and you should know better than to heed the words of fools."

"Yes," Bilbo said. "Very good advice. Thank you. Thank you very much."

'Married', Balin had said. Bilbo didn't think he really could have missed something like that having been in the contract, even if yes, fine, he'd been in a bit of a hurry when he'd signed it.

Still, people weren't married all of a sudden because a piece of paper said so. That was just silly.

First thing tomorrow, Bilbo'd be straightening this whole thing out. Then Thorin'd go back to his mountain, and Bilbo'd stay here, and that would be that.

He should probably consider himself lucky if Thorin ever wrote him.

"Um," Bilbo said. "Was there anything you - "

"Good night," Thorin said.

 

"It's not a cave," Thorin said over breakfast.

"Sorry, what isn't?" Bilbo had slept remarkably well, given the circumstances, which was to say: not very.

He'd slept, though. He hadn't spent all night lying awake, worrying about the neighbors - or thinking about what it would mean to be married to Thorin.

Which he wasn't, obviously. Not at all.

"This place," Thorin said, tearing off a piece of bread. "It's nice, though."

"It's - thank you." Bilbo considered pointing out there was a perfectly serviceable bread knife lying right next to Thorin's plate. "Quite fond of it myself."

Thorin nodded a little impatiently, as if to say that yes, that went without saying, and would Bilbo now move on to something Thorin didn't already know?

"And, obviously, I consider you a friend," Bilbo said.

"A friend," Thorin said.

"A very good friend." Whom he had occasionally pictured naked, but that was really neither here nor there. One did not bring up something like that at breakfast, or in the kitchen. Or ever, anywhere.

"You have no beard," Thorin said.

"I ... " Bilbo said. "No, I don't. I ... could grow one? Not right away, naturally, but one day."

Thorin nodded. "I think that would be good."

"Right," Bilbo said. "Would you like some marmalade with that?"

 

Bilbo considered not introducing Thorin to anyone at all, only that would have felt a little bit impolite, and also it might give Thorin the impression that Bilbo was ashamed of him or something, which was absolutely untrue, obviously, so.

"So I think that went well," Bilbo said over lunch, three weeks later. There'd been an emergency calling for a skilled blacksmith - and happily, he and Thorin had just happened to be walking by.

A quite remarkable bit of luck, really.

"Your neighbors don't like me," Thorin said. "A single incident won't change that."

"Well," Bilbo said.

"The feeling is mutual."

"That's all right then, isn't it? And just between the two of us, I don't think they like _me_ very much right now, either," Bilbo said. "Just a hunch, mind."

 

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf said, making himself comfortable on Bilbo's favorite bench. "Rumor has it you are now married to a Dwarf."

"Rumor has it right," Bilbo said, warily sitting down.

Gandalf lit his pipe. "It so rarely does. Are you quite sure?"

"Well, we're not _married_ married," Bilbo said. "If you know what I mean. Just married. Apparently, it was in the contract."

Gandalf stared at him. "I am quite sure I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

"The ... burglary contract? That you made me sign?" Gandalf frowned. Bilbo coughed. "Well, not _made me_ made me, clearly. Just - you were there when I signed it. I think."

"Always a good idea," Gandalf agreed blandly.

"So he's been living with me for - oh, nearly two months now. It's nice to have someone around the home. A bit of company during the lonely evenings."

"And this 'he' would be Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf said. "Son of Thrain. King under the Mountain."

"Well," Bilbo said. "Yes."

"Quite a catch. One imagines some people might envy you."

"He's ... bossy," Bilbo said. "Terrible at chores. Never does the dishes. Snores, probably."

"You sound fond."

"I ... " Bilbo said, and then, figuring that pride had never done him any good anyway, "Help?"

"Why else would I be here?" Gandalf said, blowing a ring of smoke at him.

 

"The contract stipulated courtship, not marriage," Gandalf said. "The intent may be much the same, I grant you - however, the method differs significantly."

"The contract stipulated nothing," Thorin said. "As you know perfectly well."

"Wait," Bilbo said.

Gandalf shrugged. "I sought to let you keep at least some few shreds of dignity."

"Nothing?"

"Enough," Thorin said. "He's not interested."

" _Nothing_?" Bilbo repeated. "I - wait, what? Yes, I am."

Gandalf arched an eyebrow at him. "You are?"

"I - " Bilbo noticed Thorin staring at him. It was a little unsettling. " - am not _not_ interested?"

"Ah," Gandalf said. "A happy announcement, indeed. A good thing I brought some fireworks. I expect you will be wanting them at the feast."

"The ... feast?" Bilbo asked. Thorin frowned. "Right," he said quickly. "The feast. Of course. What feast?"

"The wedding," Gandalf said. "Obviously."

"Obviously," Bilbo echoed. "Yes. Obviously."

 

It was, everyone agreed afterwards, a most memorable feast.

The groom looked a bit odd, but then, he was a Dwarf, and a stranger, so that was only to be expected and probably, he and Bilbo would be very happy together, on account of Bilbo being a bit strange, too, even if he wasn't a Dwarf.

Anyway, they'd both be gone soon enough, which made people inclined to look upon them kindly and with a certain amount of tolerance.

Plus, the fireworks had been absolutely fabulous.

(It was only to be hoped there would be no more emergency calls for blacksmiths in the near future.)


End file.
